


Snapshots of James Potter

by meupclose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders' Era, Multi, certain warnings will be put at the top of the chapter instead of flooding them here, cheers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:05:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meupclose/pseuds/meupclose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are a random collection of selfies I have written for James Potter. They vary in timeline, and hold no order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There’s things I’ve done I can’t erase.

**Author's Note:**

> Hogwarts -- 7th Year

_"There’s things I’ve done I can’t erase."_ Severus said. 

James sighed. Curling his fingers into stone in frustration. Nails biting to screech in the rough texture beside Severus’ head. He eyed down the dark hallway for signs of anyone else being up so late with a narrowed expression. His Head Boy badge could keep this conversation going if he wanted it too, but he didn’t feel like explaining why they were here alone to anyone. Potter grumbled audibly, not sure why he was insistent on putting them in this situation to begin with. Saying something when it wasn’t expected for him too. But Lily saw something in Severus. At least, she had until he called her a mudblood. James had been so frustrated that day, but he also knew when people were deflecting. Trying to pretend shit was fine when it wasn’t. He was the master of it– harbored worry like it was the fuel in his very veins and James would claim it took a con to know a con. At least he felt himself in a constant state of denial of what was coming with the war– all his focus sharply attuned on a fight he was looking to be apart of when he still felt a child. And Severus. He wasn’t going to be his classmate anymore once they graduated. He was going to be his enemy wasn’t he? 

_He should say something._ Maybe if he had grown up a bit faster he could have been _nicer_ to him. He could have harbored patience to learn who Severus was. Why he hid under blackened bangs– and a scowl that probably spoke louder to the things he was dealing with than Potter wanted to admit. James was a lot to take in for any normal person, but he suddenly realized in this moment. Fingers curled into the fabric of Severus’ cloak and shirt– pressing his palm above the steady _thump_  of a human heart. He realized that they would fight one another in some fashion. To the death even. James swallowed thickly the knot in his throat to this understanding. Eyes combing across his face to see deceit– in expecting it to be there now. _Lets get this over with now Snape!_ When suddenly he realized that maybe for once Severus was being honest with him. And maybe for once– James was listening. 

“We have picked our sides–” he said quietly. A furrow lining deep sorrow into his forehead. Not making to remove the close proximity of his face or his pressing hand. “But– “

But what? James felt a strong need to reassure his enemy? To place some seed of doubt? To try to sway him to what side? The right one? James didn’t even know what was right or wrong. He was fighting for the Order only because he believed Voldemort would destroy the world if given the chance. He was becoming an Auror because he was a bloody Gryffindor and was destined to forever place himself in harms way of the people he loved. 

“I can say the same–” he admitted, trying to ask for forgiveness? Trying to understand. But James wasn’t ever steady on his feet when emotions crowded his judgement. And even now he swayed a bit, stepping out of Severus space and scent of potions. And began walking backwards before he stopped. The firelight in the hallway flickered angry shadows between them, James’ eyes intent on Severus’. Regret creased in hard lines to age the boy, and he sighed with a straightening of his shoulders. Appearing more the man he would become. In trying to prove a point that meant so much to him to someone who he shouldn’t waste his time on– but was. _How he was._

“We will always fight you and I. It will happen because of our choices yeah?” he gnawed his lip with a shrugged smile, something oddly content. Peaceful in the dark. “But know I won’t kill you if we do. Even if you desire to end my life– if you are ordered to by that monster. I won’t be easy to deal with– but I will do everything to stop you. But not _that_ way. Call me weak if you wish– maybe when the dusts settles we can finally talk.” 


	2. No one can save me, the damage is done.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus & James

James had to physically swallow his laugh. It made him look constipated for a few precious seconds. Screwing his face up as he tried _really_  hard not to lose it. Shaking his head, all the way down to his toes– waving his hands and limbs erratically. He calmly released a loud breath, planting both hands firmly on his friends shoulders, resting his forehead against his where the hook of smile teased back on his lips. 

“They are tea leaves,” he whispered with intent to remain serious. Because clearly Remus believed whatever it was he was reading in the randomly laid leaves inside his teacup. But he couldn’t help but love the worried expression on his friends face. It was so terribly adorable. “And I will save you Moony– I’d fight tooth and nail for you.” He turned dramatically, rolling off the cushion in deviation with a glamoured prideful stance in the middle of the classroom.   


_“Mr. Potter sit down!”_   


“For I can not!! You see the damage is done…my friend can not be saved. And James Potter must let his beloved partner in crime _know_ –” he pulled out his book, holding it up to a page for everyone to see. Turning in a circle until Remus could see it as well. “That his tea leaves read not that he will perish a death of fire and brimstone but that he will suffer with gas so explosive he will be tormented into staying in his bed FOR ALL ETERNITY! OH SAVE HIM!!! WHAT EVER WILL I DO WITH OUT HIM!!”   


James dramatically fainted, rolling quickly out of the way of Remus’ foot. His laugh explosive as the teacher grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out of the room. James blowing kisses towards Remus the entire way.


	3. Who Did This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James & Remus

James opened the portrait door to Gryffindor tower with the intention to sneak into the kitchens. What he hadn’t expected was tripping over an unconscious Remus, half covered by the invisibility cloak. Quite literally making him hit the floor on his hands and knees, James tried to shake him awake.

“Remus–” he turned him over, noticing immediately most of the blood was from a busted nose having dripped down his face, and stained the front of his clothes. Bruises littered his knuckles, and okay– good he tried to fight back. But anger was instant– hot and hormonal. He brushed his fingers carefully over the purplish knot on his jaw, turning his head to notice the swelling of a stamped backwards letter in the center.

“You fucker–” he growled. Knowing exactly who did this, hulling Remus up against his chest. Lifting his lanky and frankly tall friend in more practice ways than anyone would understand though the door. Seeing Remus like this wasn’t entirely new to him– (which was the only reason he was keeping his cool best he could) but the fact someone had beat his friend up without him present sent Potter into a tailspin of fury. Even more because this was probably over the last Quidditch game and Remus had nothing to do with it. He carried him into the main area, sending a patronus to wake up Sirius and Peter as he put him on the couch so they could help him out. But then he was gone. Walking with his Headboy badge grasped tightly in his hand, marching towards the library where he figured Remus had probably been rummaging through the restricted section with his cloak. Which was fine. That part of mischief didn’t bother him. Especially with Remus.

Not having the map on him could make this difficult, but his instincts carried him to a few known hide outs they had worked out over the years from studying it. His foot collided with the bottom of the door, handle creaking loudly as he shoved it open. He was greeted with a few wands, but mostly they looked scared they had been caught by a teacher. James closed the door with promise echoing the room. Eyes combing to recognize the faces, and knowing he had been correct in his assumption.

He walked in with a suave swag to his step. A tiger on the prowl. And the Slytherin boy knew he was there for him and taunted to confirm it.

“ _Find Remus– Potter?_ ” They laughed at his retort. It was so childish, the younger boys not realizing their error in behavior gave him an advantage. James walked forward, not lifting his wand though was ready to deflect any spells they wanted to test against him. He just reached ahead– gripping around the boys shirt who wore his family ring– currently seen bloodied on his knuckles. Pulling him in until his face were a breath from his, a snarl lifted his lip in disgust. Feeling the sharp exhale drag out of the kids chest at being suddenly so close to him.

“You hitting my friends–” he said quietly, starring right in his eye. “We’ll go on tough guy– hit me.” He let go harshly, the boy stumbling back and looking at the others for some support, but they all seemed keen on doing the same beating to James. A punch collided quickly to his jaw, and fuck that hurt! He forgot how it felt to have someone hit him without gloves. But there was lack of power James could only laugh at. “Again–”

The boy threw another punch to his other cheek, and dammit! James growled. The pain hot. A reminder to his morals. “Again–”

“ _You’re kidding right?”_ James cocked a brow, and the Slytherin laughed, squaring his feet to throw his fist back at James’ face once more, but James stepped to the side, slamming his forearm against his to lead it in the direction he wanted. Using his momentum, he pushed the middle of his back sending the teenager into a heap on the ground.

“AGAIN!” He yelled then. The noise echoed in the room in continued warning that whatever control or advantage they thought they had was going to be met with Potter’s anger. He was still blocking the door, and only exit. The three other boys looked concerned, though they had their wands on him. James held his own.

“ _What’s your problem_!” He was yelled at, and he grinned. A bordering seductive expression that was bloody along the pearly whites of his teeth.

“What– clearly you want a muggle fight. Or shall I wrap you in ropes and drag you to Professor Dumbledore where you can lose An extravagant amount of house points, and earn a hefty detention for ‘roughing’ the head boy up–”

“ _We’ll tell on Remus! He will get in trouble too!_ ” James snorted, then cleared his throat.

“Remus has been in Gryffindor tower all night Professor, I was just doing my rounds when they decided to jump me. Hit me in the face before I could restrain them,” he said it perfectly. The room falling quiet to how he delivered it.

“ _You asked me too!_ ”  
“Will Dumbledore really believe I ASKED to be punched?”

James stood his ground. Now lifting his wand in threat, “Fifty points from Slytherin for being out after curfew. Now scurry along to the dungeons before I make it each.” The younger boys moved around him and left down the hall but James grabbed the older boy who had hit Remus and pinned him to the door frame. He struggled instantly, and there was a swell of power that filled James that he could restrain someone his size like this. He pressed all his weight and arm against his chest– curled a bruising grip along the kids wrist and wand hand restraining any movement above his head.

“It would be in your best interest if you don’t hurt my friends. See, _today_. I am playing nice. Think of this as a friendly Headboy warning–” he smiled again, but it wasn’t nice. “If there is a next time, you won’t be greeted by a Headboy. You will be greeted by **me**. Sleep well with those thoughts–use your imagination on what will happen.” He added, shoving him towards the hallway. Watching them scurry into the darkness. He hoped they get caught by a teacher on top of it all. James sighed. Fingering the ache to his jaw with a frustrated annoyance to the taste of blood in his mouth.

A few minutes later, he was walking through the portrait with an arm full of snacks from the kitchens, he plopped on the couch with an awake Remus. Giving him a knowing look. The matching bruises enough indicator he had ran off to deal with it.

“Moony you’re too tall for the cloak– next time asked Peter if he can get those books for you or something. I can’t keep covering for you–” he winked to lighten the mood around his worried tone. Tossing a chocolate frog at Padfoot in offering for his brother to not get mad he ran out there alone before he leaned against Peter’s legs. “Well let’s at least look at the books you got– come on Sirius stop lurking over there and squeeze in. Remus is about to nerd out on a book.”


	4. Songs in Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jily

James use to like storms. The change in temperature, scents of ozone making every inhale seem sweet on his tongue. He’d hover on his broom while it poured. Letting it soak him through, settling a chill to his skin. Always getting him sick eventually because he never realized how often he did it. Now though. The crack of lightening stole his breath, snuffed the confidence Potter held as a torch for everyone around him to feel and be inspired by– to instant, freezing panic. He tried to hide this detail from as many people as he could in the Auror department. It wasn’t like he could refuse to help on a case or arrest while it was thundering. It was a petty reason to not be able to do his job.

But finding himself next to Lily while the storm captured the world around them in a blackening mess of bright lights, and loud noises. He felt determined to comfort her in any way he could. He swallow down that his heart fluttered in a jolt of panic. Or his fingers trembled in the smallest shake when the battlefield blew over his sight in a flickered flashback. There had been so much blood. So much pain. So much death– and every rolling sound of the clouds combating in the sky made him feel like he was back there.

“Do you remember those stupid songs we made up in school about everyone?” He distracted best he could, relishing the natural scent of Lily hitting his nose when he pressed his face into her hair. “I was trying so hard to remember the one for Doe and Peter–” He hummed the tune of their rhyme in an attempt to switch his brain to process different memories than the ones vibrantly reflecting like their own lightening flashes over his eyes. Ones of screams. Ones that felt like death.

“Peter, Peter Pettigrew,  
Enchanted under the sky so blue  
When Dorcus smiled– he turned to goo!”

James chuckled. Remembering old memories. Happy ones hurt too. And a strange sadness clouded his face, exhaling a deep sigh so it didn’t haunt. Settling more into the seat, pulling Lily as close as she’d let him– James decided they would wait the storm out.

“We should make a couple new ones–”


	5. Marlene is Missing

James pressed his forehead against the wood of his desk. The chair sliding back to stretch out his back with a pop to his spine. He ached. His heart. Body. Mind. Everything hurt. A disease consuming his system in a knowing way that he had completely failed his friend or worse. She completely failed him. He couldn’t fathom the idea that she was gone because they didn’t get there in time. He. Didn’t get there in time. Guilt was easy to tease his senses into grief– James trying to take advantage of it and harness the anger that came with such a cycle.

But he was tired. Tired of the death. Tired of the lack of order and peace their world needed. Tired of the lies and masks.

He lifted his head. Papers rustled everywhere, maps stacked on top of each other. The Auror Department was empty currently. The night beyond late, and though here he was. Under the light of a handful of candles trying to find a connection between all his cases to see if there was a pattern. If there was something he clearly missed when the others looked over the files at the start. His shirt was wrinkled, wrapped and rolled up his forearms– a dark shadow of a beard filling around his jawline in rarity.

Standing, he took to a pace. But then someone came in, catching his eye.

“We can’t help the dead–” he’s told, catching the pity in their tone. James shook his head.

“She’s not dead–” a huff caught his ears in response, and he looked back up at the other Auror with that knowing ‘James’ expression that meant he was on edge.

“You are too close to this,” And James agreed. He was. But whenever people he loved came across his desk what was he suppose to do? Everyday he walked into work he was awaiting the order to arrest someone he knew. Someone he thought his friend, putting cuffs on their wrists, and watching them dragged to Azkaban. Realizing someone who he never thought to lie to him was capable. And maybe that was what bothered him the most about this case. Instincts flared because she was gone didn’t add up– unless she wasn’t who she said she was. And that hurt. Made James angry. Made him want to know the truth.

“She’s not dead. I will find her, and I will get answers,” his anger sparked in his tone and his fellow co-worked lifted their hands in mild surrender.

“Whatever you say James, I’ll get tea. I’ll help–”


	6. Someone Took Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily & James ;; Warnings for Violence

He clamped around the male’s throat, breaking fragile skin into threatened bruises. James watched the color shift under their round cheeks with a frightening disconnect, the rush of red from blood trapped above their spine. Racing to keep oxygen to his brain– to aid in staying awake instinctively so he had a better chance at surviving. Panic stretched to open their eyes wide when realization settled that James wasn’t letting go. Each blood vessel burst vibrantly in his eyes until they bled over white. James tightened it further, feeling the tendons waver in coiled intensity. Adding another hand until he could feel that he was truly keeping their chest from swelling with precious air. His step forward further aided in the press, the entirely of his upper body pulling him from the wall to slam the back of their head into the concrete surface. The crunch of bone fueling his anger to another dangerous peak.

“WHERE IS SHE!” He roared a noise that lacked fear or empathy to the restraint and violence he was doing. Though he craved the answer he didn’t want to let go right away. Because this wasn’t happening. She wasn’t gone. She wasn’t missing. And more than anything– she wasn’t dead. He let go– the man collapsing to the ground in a heap. His gasps, desperate wheezes just long enough for James to hull him back up. Jabbing his wand into the hallowed point of his jaw, and crowding his space until his breath brushed hot to his flushed cheeks. Shaking to keep him awake. 

“If you think for a moment I care about my career, the Order or any law standing in my way to get to her– you are misinformed,” James swallowed, a manic expression shifting over all that was forever boyish and typically filled with laughter into something else entirely. “If you do not speak– I will end you in a way you wished immediately you had given me my answers–” His tone held promise, the frantic beating of his heart in adrenaline making his eyes darken to the idea of hurting him. James wanted to be frightened of what he was feeling– maybe deep down he knew he was being irrational and charging into battle without a plan. 

But this man knew. He had to know. And he had to find her.  
“I will ask once– tell me where Lily Evans is.”


	7. Realizing the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and his parents. *warnings to suggestions on Orion's Abuse*

“Mother this is not a complicated issue I promise you– he just…”

James stared through the wall of the dinning room as if he could see Sirius on the other side– sitting in the living room by himself. His heart ached in both anger and sadness. Overwhelmed with what he now knows as fact over speculations. He yearned for revenge– but even young, James was determined to be more than someone who ran into a fight without purpose. There was a bigger, better answer than hurting the Blacks in that way.

“The fact he told me is an act of trust I will not challenge. The fact he is _here_ is proof of his house– he’s very brave Father. I won’t endanger him, we have to give him sanctuary, I can’t– just send him home,” James stood straighter, even going so far as to wrap his fingers together behind his back. The position anchored him for the moment. Needing a grounding so he didn’t run into the living room and demand more answers he didn’t deserve.   


His Father was pacing, and James let his gaze leave the wall to meet his Mother’s steady expression.

_“He can have the room next to your’s, and he can stay for as long as he wants. There isn’t any question about his motives–”_ she paused, and James thought it wasn’t possible to love his parents anymore than in this moment.   


“You will let him stay with us?”  


His dad chuckled, lighting a pipe and moving to stand near a large window in the manor. _“That is why you called this meeting right?”_

James grinned, but it was more in embarrassment they knew what he was up too before he did. “He can have half my allowance. Nothing extra from either of you. I do not want him to feel like he’s a burden– or feel like he’s taking more than he should. Can we please get rid of all my nicer robes, hide them or store them…”

His mother’s laugh brought him out of the panicked spew of words he had just been saying at hyper speed, and he palmed his face. Feeling the shake to them– his nerves extremely shot and feeling more helpless than he’s ever though possible before. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and he released a calming breath when his mother hugged him tight. Relishing her love always.

“I can’t believe they hurt him–” came out in a choked response, and James suddenly realized how much he was keeping behind a stubborn wall. Tears burned his eyes.  


_“Shh– just stop,”_   


“I can’t help but want to do more. How do I balance this? How do I keep him safe and not feeling like he’s taking advantage of our hospitality to the point he leaves?” James swallowed his tears, felt a pulse of anger burrow under his chest plate. Ignite in the strongest desires to take his family apart so Sirius didn’t have excuse to go anywhere but to stay here.  


_“Just give him this–”_ his Father said simply, pulling out two pocket watches. James pulled away from his mother’s embrace to hold the two weighted objects as the wand tapped the center they transformed into two small mirrors.   


“What are these?”  
 _“Two way mirrors, might be easier to talk this way at first,”_

James ran his thumb over the glass, seeing a sheen of blue and his own reflection in double reflect back. With a deep inhale he released his anger. As much as he could. His Father approved of his change in attitude, and wrapped a strong grip into his shoulders.

_“Sometimes being the one constant in someone’s life is the most important part. Always present you. Never hide. When it all comes down to it, when he looks at you– he will only ever see **you**. That trust and loyalty is binding. Don’t think he doesn’t know you are mad, and upset. Don’t pretend you have it together, but be sure your constant remains. **Just be his friend James.** That’s what he needs–” _   


James gnawed on his lip, tightening his grip on the mirrors while he let that sink it while his parents moved out of the dinning room and into the gardens. He waited a few minutes. Gathering his head. Wanting to be childish, desiring to go against his parents advice. But it was impossible now. They were always supportive. And he always loved them for it. Walking around the corner and down the hallway, he moved into Sirius space on the couch. Without saying anything he slipped the mirror into his lap, and walked back out– and up the grand staircase to his spacious room. Holding the mirror as tight as he could to his chest, hiding under his blankets while he read a book out loud so they both could hear it. And waited. Waited for him to finally talk to him.


	8. Never Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly & James -- 1976

James had been ignoring her for hours, but Molly Weasley had finally broke the boy down when the sun raced to set in the distance. He felt tears blur his vision in rebellion, and he looked at her from his standing perch like he was surprised he was able to show this type of emotion. As if laughing and being angry were the only extremes James Potter could be known for. He caught the concern finally on her face. The world coming to a rushing focus on the very clear fact she was upset. Damp lines trailed over his round cheeks against his wishes, fingers shakily wiping them in reassurance that he really was losing it for once, and equally to rid the evidence. The boy swallowed thickly, attempting to keep the grief in his throat and refused to allow it to consume all his face stubbornly. But all he could think about was his brothers. What they were going through, and how perfect his life was– how spoiled and fucking wonderful it was. It wasn’t fair. Why did they even like him? He was an arrogant toerag who bossed them around, and always dragged them into shit that never worked out. Would James convince them into some other prank and ruin their lives over it? And what if someone found out about their runs? Or Sirius ended up in the hospital. Or they stopped them from helping Remus?

His eyes dilated. A pause like the air was caught in his lungs– and then like a crack over ice. He submerged and sobbed. The helplessness in not being able to fix anything important crushing. Once a distant worry that had been on his mind for years, now it simply suffocated him. Smiles and jokes grazed the surface to how he played and coped, but this was his core. Teenage anguish spinning denser as a collapsed star– bursting as hormones confused his head– and exploded in fist fights and bullying when he couldn’t hide it anymore. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling once Molly said those three words. It twisted the last of his emotions like a crank hulling a massive anchor. Ensnaring a painful constriction in his gut.

Dropping to sit, James wrapped his arms around his legs. And the teenager let out a pitiful wail, burrowing his face into the sharp knobs of his knees. Not having actually cried about anything in so long he didn’t know if he could stop it. He hadn’t meant to make it seem that he was saying goodbye. But everything felt so heavy, pushing down on his shoulders– filling all his mind with near constant dizzying concern.

Was Sirius okay? Would he come home? Was Remus going to be expelled? Would Peter wake up and realize the Marauders were a fucking mess? It was thought after thought. He just loved them so much. Their bond consuming to the point he knew there was no break from them that wouldn’t rip out a piece of his soul. What if everything unraveled? What if he lost them? Would he be okay? He couldn’t explain anything to anyone– even Molly who had been trying to work out why he was losing it.

“I’m coming–” he said into his pants, trying to stop crying because it was a waste of time. It wasn’t fixing anything. “I’m coming down–” He said again to himself, unfolding and hoping down towards where Molly was standing. Wrapping his arms around her middle and burrowing his face into the soft linens of her dress.


End file.
